ME  FLYING  STAC  I5 LAYS         MO. 


IT  WO  MINE)  ftECCARK 

AND  ONE 


THE  FLYING  STAG  PLAYS 

For   The   Little   Theatre 


No.  5 


TWO     BLIND     BEGGARS 
AND    ONE    LESS    BLIND 


Copyright,  1918,  by 

EGMONT  H.  ARENS 

All  rights  reserved 


The  professional  and  amateur  stage  rights  on 
this  play  are  strictly  reserved  by  the  author. 
Applications  for  permission  to  produce  the 
play  should  be  made  to  the  Washington  Square 
Players,  New  York. 

While  it  is  hoped  that  the  publication  of  the 
plays  in  this  series  will  encourage  their  produc 
tion  in  all  parts  of  the  country,  it  is  held  that 
the  interests  of  the  New  Theatre  movement 
can  best  be  served  by  vigorous  protection  of 
the  playwrights,  without  whom  the  movement 
cannot  go  forward. 

Therefore,  any  infringements  of  the  author's 
rights  will  be  punished  by  the  penalties  im 
posed  under  the  United  States  Revised  Sta 
tutes,  Title  60,  Chapter  3. 

The   Publisher. 


TWO  BLIND  BEGGARS 
AND  ONE  LESS  BLIND 

A  Tragic  Comedy  in  One  Act  by 
Philip  Moeller  *  *  as  played  by 
the  Washington  Square  Players 


Published    by    EGMONT   ARENS    at    the 

Washington  Square  Bookshop    0     New  York 

1918 


TWO  BLIND   BEGGARS  AND  ONE 
LESS  BLIND 

was  first  produced  by  the  Washington  Square 
Players,  at  the  Bandbox  Theatre,  New  York, 
1915,  with  the  following  cast: 

GREGORY,  an  old  blind  beggar  Edward  Goodman 

GEORGE,  another  blind  beggar  -      Ralph  Roeder 

A  THIRD  BEGGAR,  less  blind  Walter  H.  Frankl 

A   LITTLE   GIRL     -  Florence  Enright 


TWO  BLIND   BEGGARS 
AND  ONE  LESS  BLIND 

The  Scene  is  a  rag-pickers'  cellar.  Five  feet  above 
the  back  of  the  stage  is  the  level  of  the  side 
walk,  where  the  feet  of  the  people  passing  can 
be  seen  and  from  which  a  broken  stair  leads 
down.  The  scene  is  dimly  lit  by  the  light  from 
the  street.  In  a  corner  is  an  old  stove  with  a 
few  coals  turning  to  ashes.  On  a  box  is  an 
oil  lamp.  Gregory  and  George  are  sorting 
rags. 


GEORGE 
Did  you  hear  them? 

GREGORY 

I've  heard  nothing  but  your  beery  breath  com 
ing  and  going  when  you  lean  towards  me. 

GEORGE 
Ncthin*  else? 


3827LO 


6  TWO    FUND    BEGGARS 

GREGORY 
What  else? 

GEORGE 

The  happy  feet  of  the  people  going  home 
from  the  factory. 

GREGORY 

I've  heard  your  breath,  I  tell  you,  and  the 
scrape  of  your  dirty  hands  in  the  rags. 

GEORGE 

Dirty,  you  say? 

GREGORY 

You've  brought  a  new  stench  into  the  cellar. 
It's  too  bad  that  you've  come  with  your  rack 
ety  smut  to  filthy  the  end  of  my  days.  If  you 
must  spill  your  noise  whisper  it  low  in  your 
brain.  Your  talk's  too  much  and  your  truth's 
too  little. 

GEORGE 

Ah  don't  be  hard  on  me.  When  I'm  as  old  as 
you,  I'll  be  happy  to  welcome  a  friend. 

GREGORY 

A  friend,  you  say.  That's  a  slippery  word. 
How  long  is  it  we've  been  here  together  in 
the  damp? 

GEORGE 
I've  lost  count  of  it. 

GREGORY 
Is  it  mor'n  a  week  or  less'n  a  week? 


PHILIP    MOELLER  7 

GEORGE 

It's  longer  than  that.  But  it's  hard  knowing 
with  only  your  ears  to  tell  you  the  time  by 
the  feet  of  the  people  passing. 

GREGORY 
Is  it  two  weeks? 

GEORGE 

It's  mor'n  that,  for  it's  every  month  that  they 
stand  in  the  gutter  banging  their  drums  and 
praising  the  Lord. 

GREGORY 

So  it's  mor'n  a  month  that  you've  sat  there 
batting  my  ears  with  your  bawl,  and  you  say 
you're  my  friend. 

GEORGE 
[Whining.] 

Well,  ain't  I?  Didn't  I  tell  you  how  it  was 
when  I  saw? 

GREGORY 
It  was  an  endless  hurt  to  hear  your  boasting. 

GEORGE 

Didn't  I  tell  you  about  the  tree  with  the  moon 
in  its  twigs  and  under  the  branches  the  huddled 
people  moaning  with  love  in  the  dark? 

GREGORY 

I  can  forgive  you  for  tellin'  me  that.  It's  the 
sort  of  thing  the  blind  can  see.  What's  the 
moon  like? 

GEORGE 
Like  the  looks  of  a  silver  dollar  spinnin'  round. 


8  TWO   BLIND   BEGGARS 

GREGORY 
I've   heard    people    tell    of   such    things. 

[They    go    on    quietly    working.     There    is    a 
sound  of  voices  passing  the  door.] 

GEORGE 

It's    evening — they're    going    home — their    feet 
are   quicker. 

GREGORY 
Be   still   now.    I've   had  enough   of  your  talk. 

GEORGE 
You  used  to  like  to  hear  about  the  houses  .  .  . 

GREGORY 
Be  still,  I  tell  youl 

GEORGE 

Of  the  churches,  with  the  spires  like  icicles  a 
mile  high  hanging  upside  down. 

GREGORY 

[Throwing  a  handful  of  rags  at  George.} 
Here,  stuff  these  rags  in  your  head! 

[They   go    on   working.     Gregory   feels    about 
him.} 

GREGORY 
Have  we  done  yet? 

GEORGE 
No,  there's  more  to  be  sifted. 

[A  coal  drops.     Hz  lifts  his  hand,  palm  up,  in 
the  direction  of  the  stove.] 
The  coals  are  turning  to  ashes. 


PHILIP    MOELLER  9 

GREGORY 
You  talk  like  a  woman  that  feels  the  cold. 

GEORGE 

When  I'm  as  old  as  you  and  half  of  me  stiff 
in  the  ground,  I'll  not  mind  it.  But  there's 
a  long  length  of  life  ahead  of  me. 

GREGORY 

God  gagg  the  words  in  your  throat!  It's  happy 
I'll  be  at  your  funeral  kicking  the  stones  till 
they  rattle  down  on  your  upturned  face. 

GEORGE 

There's  a  pool  of  sweet  in  your  heart,  old  man, 
but  if  ever  I  die  before  you,  I've  still  lived  the 
longer,  for  I've  known  the  light  and  the  looks 
of  things  .  .  .  and  I  once  saw  a  worm  lying 
drunk  in  the  sun. 

GREGORY 

It's  a  dark  day  that  I  sit  and  hear  you  tell  of 
this. 

[They  go    on   working.     Gregory   again   feels 
about  him.} 

GREGORY 
We've  done  now  and  I  can  sleep. 

GEORGE 

It  isn't  much  that  you'll  see  in  your  dreams. 
[Gregory    rolls    over    on    the    floor.     After    a 
moment  George  begins  to  whistle.} 


10  TWO  BLIND  BEGGARS 

GREGORY 
[Sitting  up.] 

You're  sticking  needles  in  my  ear!     Shut  up! 
[He  rolls  back  on  the  floor.     Georges  reaches 
another  bundle.] 

GEORGE 

Old  man,  here's  another,  but  we'll  leave  it  till 
tomorrow. 

[When  he  lies  down  Gregory  straightens  up, 
as  if  they  were  each  at  either  end  of  a  see- 
saw.] 

GREGORY 

I  can't  take  the  risk.  I  might  die  before  morn 
ing  and  I  don't  want  to  step  up  to  God  with  a 
sop  of  filthy  rags  in  my  hands. 

GEORGE 
You're  so  old  you're  afraid  to  die. 

GREGORY 

Afraid,  am  I?  What  chance  would  I  have 
sprinkling  the  dust  under  the  clean  white 
noses  of  the  angels.  Give  me  the  bundle. 

GEORGE 
Tomorrow. 

[Gregory  lurches  towards  him  and  catches 
him  by  the  hair.] 

GREGORY 
You've  got  no  religion. 

[His  hand  comes  down  to  Gsorge's  throat.] 


PHILIP    MOELLER  11 

GEORGE 

[Trembling.} 

I  haven't  the  heart  to  dispute  with  a  weak  old 
man  like  you. 

[He  rolls  the  bundle  over.     There's  a  scuffle 

and  scrape  on  the  floor.} 
What's  that? 

GREGORY 
Rats,  you  fool. 

[Gregory  unties  the  cord.  George  falls  to 
sleep.  When  the  string  is  unloosened  Gregory 
stretches  out  his  leg  and  kicks  George  in  the 
ribs.} 

GEORGE 
[Starting  up.} 

God  damn  you,  old  man!  My  hand  was  just 
on  the  knob  of  her  door.  Why  did  you  wake 
me? 

GREGORY 

It  might  be  better  for  me  if  you  slept.  .  .  . 
[George  flings  himself  down  again  snarling.} 

Because  if  I  find  something  here  it's  all  my 
own. 

GEORGE 
[Sitting   upright.} 
I'll  help  you  sift. 

[They  go  on  working.  Gregory  chuckling 
softly  to  himself.} 


12  TWO  BLIND  BEGGARS 

You're  a  mighty  miser  keeping  all  that  joy 
to  yourself. 

GREGORY 
[Exploding  with  mirth.] 

Ha!  Ha!  Ha!  That  was  easy — easier  than  kiss 
ing  a  corpse.  Ha!  Ha!  Ha! 

GEORGE 

Eh! 

GREGORY 

It's  twenty  years,  I've  been  siftin'  and  nothing's 
ever  been  found.  And  now  at  the  hint  of  it 
you're  up  from  your  sleep.  Ha!  Ha! 

GEORGE 
There  may  be  somethin'. 

GREGORY 
[Fiendishly.] 

Ha!  Ha!  Hope's  a  filthy  whore,  my  boy.  She 
pops  her  head  around  the  corner  and  when  you 
run  for  her,  up  go  her  fingers  to  her  nose. 
Ha!  Ha!  You  might  just  as  well  have  slept. 

GEORGE 

There  wasn't  a  wink  in  me.  I'm  afraid  to 
sleep.  If  my  sight  came  back  while  I  slept,  I 
mightn't  know  it. 

[They  go  on  working.  Far  off  a  whistle  blows.} 

GEORGE 

There's  a  fog  on  the  river.  The  boats  will  be 
moving  slowly.  • 


PHILIP    MOELLER  13 

GREGORY 

It  must  be  a  poor  thing  to  see.  You're  always 
got  to  be  going  somewheres  and  looking  at 
people. 

GEORGE 

I  once  saw  a  woman  look  at  me! 
[His  hand  stops.] 

GREGORY 
You've   stopped   sifting. 

GEORGE 
It   was   like    the    smell    of   the    trees. 

GREGORY 
This  is  a  big  bundle. 

GEORGE 

It  was  like  the  voices  of  the  people  in  the 
dark.  I  heard  them — all  of  them,  they  were 
saying,  "You!  You!" 

GREGORY 

You  didn't  hear  right.  It  was  "I!  I!"  they 
were  saying. 

GEORGE 

All  day  I  kept  lookin'  into  people's  hearts. 
[They  go  on  sifting  the  rubbish.    Another  coal 
drops  in  the  stove.} 

GREGORY 
They're  late  to-night. 

GEORGE 
The  little  girl  will  be  tired. 


14  TWO   BLIND   BEGGARS 

GREGORY 

He'll  be  walking  the  streets  led  by  the  child 
till  the  last  glimpse  has  gone  from  his  eyes. 
And  then  he'll  come  and  sit  in  the  cellar  along 
with  us. 

GEORGE 

He'll  remember  many  things  but  his  words 
will  be  bitter  with  the  sight  just  gone  from 
him. 

GREGORY 

Soon  he'll  be  sitting  here  with  us  and  be  spit- 
tin'  about  in  the  dark. 

[They  are  nearing  the  end  of  the  bundle.   Sud 
denly  their  bodies  straighten  and  their  arms 
come  up  together,  a  dollar  bill  in  their  hands.] 
It's  got  a  stiff  feeling  .  .  . 

GEORGE 
It's  somethin'  new  .  .  . 

GREGORY 
It's  covered  with  tiny  threads  .  .  . 

GEORGE 
Like  silk  .  .  . 

[Their  heads  come  together.] 

GREGORY 
It's  got  a  nice  smell  .  .  . 

GEORGE 
How  thin  the  edge  is! 

GREGORY 
Twenty  years  I've  been  waiting  .  .  . 


PHILIP    MOELLER  15 

GEORGE 

This  would  be  a  great  moment  for  my  sight  to 
come  back. 

GREGORY 

Do  you  know  what  I've  got  in  my  hand? 
It's   a   thousand   dollars. 

GEORGE 
It's  stiffer'n  rags. 

GREGORY 

I  can  buy  lots  of  soap  and  be  clean  when  I 
get  to  heaven. 

GEORGE 

Food  in  the  morning  and  food  at  noon  and 
food  at  night  and  a  bed  to  sleep  in  ... 

GREGORY 
I  mayn't  die  for  a  long  while. 

GEORGE 
It's  a  good  thing  I  kept  awake  and  did  my  duty. 

GREGORY 
May  God  turn  the  lie  to  flame  in  your  mouth. 

GEORGE 
Lie  is  it? 

GREGORY 

It  will  hang  to  your  feet  on  the  judgment  day, 
weighing  you  down  when  you  stretch  towards 
the  Lord. 

GEORGE 
It's  mighty  familiar  your  tongue  is  with  God. 


16  TWO  BLIND   BEGGARS 

GREGORY 

[Attempting    to     snatch     the    bill    away    and 
shrieking.} 
It's  minel  mine!  mine! 

GEORGE 
[Whispering.] 
You're  wrong,  you  rotten  old  man,  it's  mine. 

GREGORY 
[Quickly.} 
My  hand   touched   it  first. 

GEORGE 
I  felt  your  hand  reach  it. 

GREGORY 
It's  mine! 

GEORGE 

You're  like  the  burnt  out  end  of  stick,  old  man. 
If  I  touch  you  you'll  crumble  to  ashes. 

GREGORY 

Keep  back  from  me,  for  I've  two  teeth  left 
and  they're  sharp. 

GEORGE 

What  will  you  do  with  the  money,  with  the 
smell  of  the  years  on  you? 

GREGORY 

I'll  buy,  and  I'll  burn  tall  candles,  and  when  I 
awake  forever,  I'll  be  nighest  the  seat  of  the 
Mighty,  kissing  the  feet  of  the  Lord. 


PHILIP    MOELLBR  17 

GEORGE 

It's  more  likely  you'll  be  bending  down  to 
polish  his  boots. 

GREGORY 

He'll  be  touching  my  lids  till  the  gay  sight 
comes  into  my  eyes. 

GEORGE 

You're  wastin'  your  hope  and  the  money. 
There  isn't  a  foot  of  room  in  the  whole  white 
length  of  heaven  for  a  smutty  and  rotten  old 
boy  like  you. 

GREGORY 

May  the  God  of  the  sparrows  forgive  you  for 
his  wicked  son  Cain  is  born  again. 

GEORGE 

I'll  leave  you  alone  in  the  cellar  to  sweat  and 
to  freeze  and  to  pray  and  to   stink. 
[He  dutches  the  bill] 

GEORGE 

The  money  is  mine  for  I'll  know  how  to  spend 
it  ... 

GREGORY 
Let   go!   let   go! 

GEORGE 

I'll  go  down  where  the  street  girls  walk  and 
I'll  feel  their  faces  and  smell  their  breath  and 
she  that's  the  sweetest  will  go  with  me  and 
all  day  long  I'll  be  believin'  in  your  God.  And 
this  on  Monday  and  this  on  Tuesday,  and  on 
Wednesday — booze  and  a  length  of  sleep. 

[He  attempts  to  snatch  the  bill.    They  struggle.} 


18  TWO  BLIND  BEGGARS 

GREGORY 
Christ!    Mary!    Francis!    Peter!    Paul! 

[And  then  to  George.] 
God  damn  you! 

[Suddenly  they  spring  at  each  other's  throats. 
The  bill  falls  from  their  hands  and  tumbles 
back  amid  the  rags.  They  sway  and  slip. 
They  are  up  again  and  the  fight  goes  on.] 

GEORGE 
Your  teeth! 

GREGORY 
Unclose  your  claws. 

[Choking.] 
I!     I! 

[They  are  now  behind  the  stove  and  gradually 
they  sink  to  the  floor.  They  have  strangled 
one  another.  Then  there  is  silence  and  an 
other  coal  drops  in  the  stove.  A  moment 
later  the  Third  Beggar  and  the  Little  Girl 
come  down  into  the  cellar.  They  step  on  the 
last  step  and  sit  down.] 

THE  LITTLE  GIRL 
How  does  the  story  end? 

THE  THIRD  BEGGAR 
They  lived  happy  ever  after. 

THE  LITTLE  GIRL 

That  was  a  beautiful  story.     Will  you  tell  me 
another  tomorrow? 


PHILIP    MOELLER  19 

THE  THIRD  BEGGAR 
Yes,  while  we  walk.     Hew  much  did  we  get 

THE  LITTLE  GIRL 

A  rich  child  gave  me  three  pennies.  Her  dog 
ran  after  her  with  a  collar  of  silver  bells 
around  its  neck. 

THE  THIRD  BEGGAR 

If  my  eyes  only  last  till  the  winter  comes  srt4 
then  I  can  go  out  alone  and  be  playing  my 
flute.  In  the  old  days  I'd  get  many  pennies 
that  way.  It's  a  fine  sound  for  the  rich  people, 
the  white  sound  of  my  flute,  below  in  the 
streets  when  the  snow's  falling  and  the  lamps 
are  lit. 

[He  starts  groping  about  him.} 
Is  it  dark  in  the   cellar? 

THE  LITTLE  GIRL 
There's  a  coal  that's  still  red  in  the  stove. 

THE  THIRD  BEGGAR 
We  can  warm  our  fingers. 

[He  comes  forward  and  stumbles  against  the 
bodies.] 

THE  LITTLE  GIRL 

If  I  don't  lead  you,  you'll  fall.  Give  me  your 
hand. 

THE  THIRD  BEGGAR 

I'm  steady  now.  My  foot  slipped  against  one 
of  the  bundles. 

[He  again  comes  forward  and  this  time  trips 
over  the  outstretched  legs  of  the  beggars.] 


20  TWO  BLIND  BEGGARS 

THE  THIRD  BEGGAR 
What's  this? 

THE  LITTLE  GIRL 
I'll  light  the  lamp. 

THE  THIRD  BEGGAR 
Yes.     Here's  a  match. 

[He  searches  in  his  pocket,  turning  out  one 
and  then  the  other.] 

THE  THIRD  BEGGAR 

I've  got  none.  See  if  you  can  find  a  bit  of 
waste  paper  on  the  floor  that  I  can  light  at 
the  coal. 

[The  Little  Girl  looks  among  the  rags  where 
the  beggars  have  been  sifting.  She  finds  the 
bill.} 

THE  LITTLE  GIRL 

Here's  a  crumpled  piece  of  paper.  Will  this  do? 
[She  brings  it  to  the  old  man.} 

THE  THIRD  BEGGAR 
I   can't  see.     It's  so  dark  down  here. 

[He  folds  it  into   a  sliver.} 

Yes,  this  will  do.     Now  lead  me  to  the  stove. 
[The  Little  Girl  does  so.    He  lights  the  paper. 
In  the  flicker  of  light  he  sees  the  two  dead 
beggars.] 

THE  LITTLE  GIRL 
I'm  afraid  1 

THE  THIRD  BEGGAR 
Don't  talk  or  you'll  wake  them.    Go  home  now. 


PHILIP    MOELLER  21 

THE  LITTLE  GIRL 

[At  the  stairs.] 
You  must'nt  forget  my  story  tomorrow. 

THE  THIRD  BEGGAR 
It   will   be   even    finer   than   today. 

[The  Little  Girl  goes  out.  The  bill  is  nearly 
burnt  to  a  cinder.  He  looks  at  the  bit  left 
in  his  hand.] 

God   forgive   me.     It  was   so   dark   I    couldn't 
see.     It's  a  dollar  bill  that  I've  burnt! 

[Then  as  he  leans  over  the  two  beggars.] 
It   must  be   a   terrible   thing  to   be   blind   and 
to  die. 

CURTAIN 


FLYING   STAG   PLAYS 
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The  Best  One  Act  Plays  Produced  by  the 
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other  little  theatre  groups  in  America,  will  be 
included  in  this  series. 

THE  CHESTER  MYSTERIES,  a  Passion 
Play,  as  played  on  Christmas  eve  by  the 
Greenwich  Village  Players. 

No.  1.  THE  SANDBAR  QUEEN,  by 
George  Cronyn.  (Washington  Square  Players.) 

No.  2.  NIGHT,  by  James  Oppenheim. 
(Provincetown  Players.) 

No.  3.  THE  ANGEL  INTRUDES,  by 
Floyd  Dell.  (Provincetown  Players.) 

No.  4.  ENTER  THE  HERO,  by  Theresa 
Helburn.  (St.  Francis  Players.) 

No.  5.  TWO  BLIND  BEGGARS  AND 
ONE  LESS  BLIND,  by  Philip  Moeller. 
(Washington  Square  Players.) 

IN  PREPARATION 

THE  PRODIGAL  SON,  by  Harry  Kemp. 
LA  CIGALE,  by  Lyman  Bryson.  (Arts  and 
Crafts  Theatre,  Detroit.) 
THE  ROPE,  by  Eugene  O'Neill. 
A  PLAY,  by  Alfred  Kreymborg. 
And   Others. 

Published     by    EGMONT     ARENS,     at    the 

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17   West  8th  Street. 


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